


Unintentional Subversion

by Dikhotomia



Series: Whumptober 2k19: FE3H Edition [11]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Day 11 Stitches, Gen, I just changed POV, I whumped Byleth two prompts in a row, also some dashes of nonsense headcanon, probably inaccurate medical nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 08:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21033068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikhotomia/pseuds/Dikhotomia
Summary: "She was six when she got her first set of stitches, the memory is hazy and hard to dig up, but she recalls enough. The gentle scolding, the prick and pull of needle and thread through her skin and the pain that accompanied it. She doesn't remember exactly how she did it, but the gash had been deep enough it left a scar.The next time she got stitches was when a job went awry and she got stabbed for it, forcing her to stumble into town with her jacket pressed to the wound to find a doctor to sew her up so she could be on her way again (she ended up there for a week through no fault of her own.)"ORShamir deals with the aftermath of poor Intel and Byleth deals with a minor scolding.





	Unintentional Subversion

She was six when she got her first set of stitches, the memory is hazy and hard to dig up, but she recalls enough. The gentle scolding, the prick and pull of needle and thread through her skin and the pain that accompanied it. She doesn't remember exactly how she did it, but the gash had been deep enough it left a scar.

The next time she got stitches was when a job went awry and she got stabbed for it, forcing her to stumble into town with her jacket pressed to the wound to find a doctor to sew her up so she could be on her way again (she ended up there for a week through no fault of her own.)

She learned how to do it on her own for convenience sake after that, but hadn't had to use the skill until now. Byleth sits propped up against a boulder with a gash in her leg and a grimace on her face, one hand hovering over where it bleeds the worst, seeping through her tights and oozing into the ground below. Shamir considers herself lucky that she carries replacement strings for her bow, stuck using a hairpin as a makeshift needle. Traveling with them, maybe she ought to start carrying actual needles and thread if she's going to be stuck sewing their wounds closed.

"The one time you didn't bring anyone who knows how to use healing magic," she mutters darkly, trying to figure out how best to tie the string to the hairpin without it slipping lose in the middle of the stitch.

"It was a bad call on my part, I know," Byleth replies, finally pressing down on the wound enough to staunch the flow. "But I made the mistake of thinking we wouldn't need them. This was supposed to be a quick in and out elimination of a _small_ group of bandits." Not the thirty they encountered.

Fair point, Shamir would give her that one. The Knights dropped the ball as much as Byleth had. Still, they had made it out alive thanks to the Professor's skill in tactics and battle, with her taking the worst of the injuries. The rest of the class had only taken a few bumps or bruises, save Edelgard with her bloody nose that Hubert dutifully was tending to a few feet away.

"Let this count as a lesson for you too, then. Always bring someone who can use healing magic," Shamir says, finally managing to secure the string and the pin well enough it doesn't give away with a sharp tug. "Or someone with more medical training." She gestures for Byleth to move her hand, then kneels down beside her, gingerly peeling away the ruined fabric of her tights to get a better look at the wound.

Above her Byleth hisses, fingers curling into fists on her lap.

"I'm not infallible. Even I make mistakes," the Professor mumbles, flinching when Shamir slips the sharp end of the pin through the ragged skin. She doesn't say anything while she works, pausing periodically to give Byleth a moment to breathe and to clean away the blood that continues to ooze from the yet sewn closed skin.

"Everyone does," she agrees finally, flicking a glance at her out of the corner of her eye. "But this is a _rookie_ mistake, Professor. These kids are just that, kids. They might be training to be soldiers or knights or rulers, but they're not like us. Not yet." Not highly trained and used to operating on their own without aide or a knight babysitter.

Even if she counted right now as that babysitter.

She just didn't exactly expect to be babysitting Byleth too.

"I think this is the longest you've talked to me since I met you," Byleth comments, smiling faintly through the sheen of sweat and obvious pain pricking at the corners of her eyes. Shamir snorts, offering a flicker of a smile in return.

"Don't get used to it."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She can't help the huff of laughter, stilling before she ties off the stitch, sitting back on her heels to look down at it. It would do until they got back to the monastery where Manuela could fix her up proper. "Done," she says, pushing herself back up to her feet.

"We'll head out when you're ready."

Byleth nods.


End file.
